All the Days of Her Life (9 page)

“What do you mean, I can’t get out of here for a couple of weeks?” The words tumbled out Lacey’s mouth the instant her uncle walked into her private room that evening. “I have to go to school. I can’t hang around the hospital.”

Her uncle put on his best doctor expression and sat down on the side of her bed. “I can’t let you out until I know exactly what triggered your DKA.”

“I didn’t plan to go into keto, you know.”

“Lacey, anyone who’s monitoring their blood sugar regularly, giving their insulin shots, and maintaining an exercise program shouldn’t go into keto. At the very least, you should have smelled the buildup of acetone on your own breath.”

She recalled Todd asking her if she’d painted her fingernails. He had smelled the acetone and she’d dismissed his observation.
How stupid!
She told her uncle nothing because she knew he was goading her into confessing that she’d blown it.

“You’ve lost a lot of weight,” Uncle Nelson observed. “Were you dieting?”

“I was counting calories,” she admitted. “But keto made me lose weight.”

“And your blood sugar testing didn’t warn you of elevated glucose levels?”

“So I wasn’t testing too regularly. I let it slip by on me.”

He arched an eyebrow. “That’s an understatement.”

“Well, I hate being in the hospital and I don’t see why I have to stay here. I can go to school and come in for regular visits.”

“Like you did these past six months?”

Her cheeks reddened and she felt anger welling up inside her. She wanted to jerk out the IV and march out the door. “I hate being here,” she restated. “I hate all this equipment. I feel like a freak.”

He fingered the line attached to a small machine parked next to her bed. “This is an insulin infusion pump, and until we get you completely balanced, I want you on it. Think of it as a vacation from your twice-daily injections.”

Her gaze followed the line that was threaded into her arm, where a needle was inserted under her skin and taped in place. “Some vacation.”

“There are worse machines to be attached to,” he said enigmatically.

“What’s this stuff about a team I have to see?” She changed the subject because she didn’t want a lecture on the dire consequences of diabetes.

“An approach we use now for newly diagnosed patients. A patient sees not only the physician, but also a nurse educator, a dietician, an exercise therapist and”—he took a breath—“a counselor.”

She stiffened at the last word. “You mean like a shrink?”

“A psychologist who specializes in family counseling.”

“Haven’t you heard, Uncle Nelson? The Duvals are no longer a family.”

“Nevertheless, all of you are going to be talking to Dr. Rosenberg.”

“Are you sure this doctor wants to be in the same room with Mom and Dad? It could be hazardous to his health.”

“You’re
the one who’s important,” Uncle Nelson declared.
“They’re
the ones who have to learn to work together for
your
benefit.”

“That’ll be the day.”

Uncle Nelson patted her hand. “I have other patients to see, Lacey, but I’ll be in tomorrow morning after I take a look at the readings from your blood work. I’ll be bringing the team with me for you to meet. They’re a good crew. You’ll like them.”

I doubt it
, Lacey thought, watching him exit her room. She hunkered down in the bed with an overwhelming urge to cry.

She might have started crying too, but a hesitant knocking sounded on her door. “It’s open,” she called.

The door opened and Terri poked her head inside the room. “Are you up for company? Or are you in quarantine or something?”

L
ACEY FELT HER
spirits lift as if attached to a helium balloon. She beamed Terri a smile. “Come in. Come sit down. Tell me what’s happening? How’d the play go? How is everybody?”

Terri crossed to the bed cautiously, peering hard at Lacey from beneath the brim of a funky hat. “Hey, slow down. One question at a time. First of all, are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Terri eyed the IV line and insulin infusion pump skeptically. “You sure?”

“These contraptions will be gone in a few days.”

“What happened to you?” Terri edged down into a chair positioned alongside the bed. “I won’t lie. We were all totally freaked when you collapsed at the theater.”

Lacey’s face stung with embarrassment. There was no keeping the truth hidden about her being a diabetic any longer. “I caused a real scene, huh?”

“The play stopped and everything. An ambulance came and took you away. We were all pretty scared.”

Lacey groaned and buried her face in her hands. It was worse than she thought. She’d never live down the humiliation. “This is so gross,” she mumbled into her hands. She looked up. “Everybody thinks I’m a total freak, don’t they?”

“They think you’re
ill.”
Terri’s tone was empathetic. “Tell me, what’s going on? All your mother would tell me was that your diabetes was out of control. I didn’t know you
had
diabetes. Why didn’t you ever say anything to me about it?”

“Nobody knows,” Lacey said miserably. “I hate having it.”

“But I thought we were friends.” Terri looked hurt.

“I don’t see any reason to dump on a friend.”

“All the times you kept going to the bathroom and when you wouldn’t eat junk food—it was because of your diabetes, wasn’t it?”

“I wanted to lose weight,” Lacey insisted stubbornly.

“And I had to drag you out for an eating binge.” Terri rolled her eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t blame yourself. I had fun that night.”

“Do you have to stick yourself with a needle every day?” Terri wasn’t even trying to mask her wide-eyed curiosity.

“Twice a day. But let’s not talk about it.”

Terri began chattering. “I went to the school library. I looked up diabetes in the encyclopedia. It was pretty interesting. Diabetes is one of the oldest diseases in recorded history. The ancient Greeks wrote about it.
Diabetes mellitus
means ‘sweet urine.’ The article explained that people who have it can go blind, or lose limbs ’cause of nerve damage, or have kidney failure. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“It won’t,” Lacey said without much bravado. “I just got a little messed up, but I’ll be back in control and on top of this in no time.”

“I sure hope so.”

“But enough about me,” Lacey insisted. “How’d the play go?”

“After the ambulance left with you on Thursday night, Ms. Kasch told us to go on with the play, but the cast never really got into it.”

Lacey hated hearing that. “So was it a total flop because of me?”

“No … just subdued. It went better Friday and Saturday nights. We struck the set today after school.”

“And—um—the cast party? How’d it go?” Lacey was supposed to have gone with Todd. He’d asked her in his usual offhanded manner one night following a dress rehearsal.

“I didn’t stay very long. But you know me, I’m not much of a party girl.”

Lacey thought it maddening the way Terri wasn’t telling her what she wanted to know. “I guess Todd
took Monet,” Lacey said, half hoping Terri would say “no way.”

“Yeah, he brought Monet. I told you he was pond scum.”

“He’s free to date other girls.” Lacey defended him even though she was hurt. Her mother had never mentioned whether he’d even called to check on her. She supposed that he hadn’t.

Terri fiddled with the strap of her purse lying across her lap. “In school today, Monet was bragging that Todd asked her to the prom.”

The news washed fresh waves of humiliation over Lacey. He wasn’t giving Lacey the chance of a comeback; he simply substituted another girl to fill her place. And every person at school who’d seen them together would know the same thing: Lacey had been unceremoniously dumped. “I guess this means I can cancel my dress fitting at Neiman-Marcus,” Lacey said breezily.

Terri smiled ruefully. “I’m glad you’re not letting this get you down. I wasn’t sure how you’d take the news.”

Lacey was upset, but not so much by Todd’s betrayal as by the sense that she was losing something she’d worked hard to have—a feeling of normalcy and belonging. “I hate hearing the news,” she confessed. “But it doesn’t surprise me.”

“I’m sorry you even cared for Todd. You’re more than he deserves.” From the hallway, a voice on the PA system announced that visiting hours were over. Terri rose. “They’re throwing me out.”

“Will you come back?”

“Sure. How long will you be cooped up in here?”

Lacey remembered what her uncle had told her about an extended stay for counseling. “I’m not positive.”

“Well, you won’t miss too much school. Spring break and Easter’s coming.”

Lacey grimaced. “I hate thinking about spending vacation time in this place.”

“I’ll check out the beaches for you. The college crowds have already started bombarding Florida. ’Course, it would be more fun to do this together.” Terri shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

Depression descended on Lacey once more after Terri was gone. They should be out on the beaches together.
She
should be the one planning on attending the prom with Todd instead of Monet. She should be thinking of having fun instead of facing counselors and dieticians. Diabetes had ruined her life.

When her phone rang, she offered a listless hello.

“Lacey! Is this really you? I’ve been frantic worrying about you!” Katie’s voice exclaimed.

“I’m a loser, Katie. Now everybody at school will know what a loser I am.” Lacey explained her circumstances, venting all her frustration and hostility into Katie’s ear.

“You can’t help it if you’re sick,” Katie said patiently. “Diabetes isn’t exactly the plague, you know. Maybe things won’t be that grim at school. Lots of kids and teachers were sympathetic toward me when they learned about my heart problem.”

“Is that what you wanted?” Lacey found the courage
to say. “Pity? Not me. I don’t want everybody talking about me behind my back. I was in sixth grade when I was first diagnosed, and I can remember when I came back to school after being in the hospital, a group of kids used to whisper about me. Some of them called me needle freak and junkie. It was awful.”

“That was years ago, Lacey. You’re in high school now. Don’t you think kids might have matured a little since then?”

“No,” Lacey said, sniffing. She told Katie what Terri had revealed about Todd. “So they haven’t matured, Katie,” she finished. “They’ve just figured out ways to be more cruel.”

Katie quietly but firmly answered, “Listen to me, Lacey Duval. You can’t blame Todd’s behavior on your being sick—he’s probably selfish and obnoxious no matter what. He doesn’t sound like much of a loss. Besides, you’ve always told me he never turned you on the way Jeff did anyway.”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“It has everything to do with it. You can’t blame your diabetes for everything that goes wrong in your life.”

Lacey stiffened. “Well, the last thing I expected from you was a lecture.”

“Well, you need one.” Katie now sounded impatient.

“No, I don’t. I need a friend.”

“I’ve always been your friend, Lacey. Chelsea and Amanda … Jeff too. And let’s not forget Jillian. She liked you, and we had to practically bludgeon
you to allow her to visit Mandy’s memorial. Lots of people care about you, Lacey, but you have some stupid idea in your head about what’s ‘real’ and ‘normal.’ Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You drive everybody away who tries to get close to you, and that’s not fair.”

“I’m so glad you told me what my problems are. Thanks for the enlightenment. I’m in the hospital, you know. I have a right to feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, I’d prefer you start taking care of yourself instead of always looking for a way out of it. You’ve got a disease, Lacey. Stop pretending that you don’t.”

“And I’d prefer it if you’d lose my phone number. Permanently. The one thing I don’t need is friends like you.”

Lacey slammed the receiver down so hard that the phone skidded off the table. It lay on the floor in a tangled heap, sending out a mournful dial tone. “Who needs you, Katie O’Roark,” she spat out through clenched teeth. Tears filled her eyes and began to flow. Furiously, she wiped them away. But it was like trying to stop a breech in a dam with a toothpick.

She needed Katie. Desperately. Katie was the best friend Lacey had ever known. And she’d just driven her away. With her mean mouth and hateful words, Lacey had slammed the door on their friendship forever.

She curled up into a ball and tugged the bed covers over her head, but the IV line in her hand prevented her from blocking out all the light in the
room. The lights in the hallway dimmed. Lacey felt utterly and completely alone. Her sobs poured out, soaking her pillow.

Her uncle had done her no favor by rushing her to ICU and saving her life. He should have let her die. Dying would be better than this terrible burning pain in her heart. From the floor, the dial tone from the overturned phone turned into an intermittent whine that pierced her eardrums like the wail of a terrified child.